


blood couldn't find who you are at the centre.

by onlyeli



Series: the pale kantuna collection [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus (Homestuck), Beforus Ancestors, Beforus Culling (Homestuck), Character Study, Developing Friendships, Other, POV Mituna Captor, POV Second Person, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pre-Accident Mituna Captor, Pre-Scratch (Homestuck), Typing Quirks, again just trust me on this one, mutantsquad BABY, tuna's got a pale crush on kankri. and what, you could argue its one for all of them but tbh its mainly mituna as usual for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeli/pseuds/onlyeli
Summary: could it be that you're more than the scars on the surface?“Am I interrupting s9mething?” Kankri’s voice comes from below you, and you jolt to a stop mid-rotation and rattle your fangs. You beam at him, wide and mismatched and sharp at both edges. He does not smile back, eyeing you and Rufioh cynically. Rufioh gives you a small pull, and you both start to descend. It’s better to have this conversation on equal grounds.
Relationships: Mituna Captor & Kankri Vantas, Mituna Captor & Kankri Vantas & Rufioh Nitram, Mituna Captor & Rufioh Nitram, Rufioh Nitram/Kankri Vantas
Series: the pale kantuna collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639918
Kudos: 39





	blood couldn't find who you are at the centre.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leviathanchronicles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathanchronicles/gifts).



> i promised i'd write something with the mutantsquad and here i am to deliver. writing mituna is so much fun. he always thinks in this odd, disjointed sort of way.

“RUF10H!!”

You skid sharply into view, a thin trail of blue and red wrapped around the trunk of the tree Rufioh is reclining in. Your four-wheeled device loses no momentum and speeds out from under your feet, but you’re already turning hyperactive circles in the air, crackling with energy, both literal and figurative. Rufioh opens his eyes and twists to face you, mouth lopsided in his welcoming grin. 

“hey fl1ptuna… where’s the f1re man, haha…”

Squawking with laughter, you cartwheel in another dizzy spin. “D1D Y0U H34R?? D1D Y0U H34R??” You reach for Rufioh’s hands, which he offers up readily, and give him a hearty tug. You’re stronger than you look and Rufioh is willing to comply, shifting his legs and stepping out into the open air. His wings unfurl in a great show of shimmering umber, the sunlight already once filtered through the leaves setting them on fire with colour. Each fluttering beat of them sends a few sparks from your psionics dancing away into the distance, fumbling over each other, eager to play. When you are side by side, the sky is alight. He really is beautiful, now more than ever, you think. You’re only a little bitter that you were so hung up on him for so long. It wasn’t his fault, not really. He was the only one like you in the new group you’d found yourself in -- the eventual attachment was inevitable, if unrequited. 

“about kankr1? haha, yeah, 1 heard… feel k1nda bad, y’know… he doesn’t l1ke to goss1p… and he’s my boy, so 1 feel l1ke 1 gotta say someth1ng, y’know…” All anyone had been interested in discussing lately was Kankri, his hue, how he’d deceived everybody for so long. Some of the highbloods are angry, but not you. Sure, he’d been insufferable on more than one occasion and yes, you’d gotten into many heated debates about his holier-than-thou attitude and tendency to patronise, but none of that matters now. All that matters to you is that Kankri is and always has been one of you, like it or not. Each time he’d made you laugh, each amiable conversation, it came from a similarity that’s impossible for you to deny anymore. 

“7H3 M0R3 7H3 M3RR13R!!” And you believe that. Growing up around other golds forced you to learn safety in numbers far quicker than your peers. Work, despite its nature, was always a safe place for you. No matter if the other pisonics thought you were loud, or flashy, or a foul-mouthed showoff, they looked after you when the highbloods came calling. When you wore yourself out, burned too bright, they were the first by your side. You remember a troll far older than you that had stood over you when your vision blacked out and said _iIf you take hiIm, you take all of uss wiIth hiIm_. That sort of protection means something to you -- when it’s given and received, unspoken and real.

Thinking about explaining that to Kankri makes your head hurt. Kankri is past asking Latula to verify things you say to him, but the sentiment doesn’t sit right with you and never did. You couldn’t understand who had lied to him enough for him to mistrust every truth. It makes a little more sense now that you know he’d been culled.

 _Culled_. It feels like such a dirty word, which is weird, especially for you. Briefly, you wonder if Rufioh would have censored it, but he drags you out of your thoughts by dragging you physically to your left. He veers the other way gently, and, together, you start to twirl, still connected by your joined hands. 

“careful, man, haha…” He’s examining the sky above your head instead of meeting your eyes (or, where your eyes are beneath your hair). A lot of people do that. When you ask them why, they always say it’s because watching your split pupils shudder behind the veil of hair you always forget to cut makes them nauseous. You think there’s something else to it, but don’t bother pressing the matter. It’s just another mutation you’re too used to, too bored of to give a second thought, however fond you are of duplicates. “you see how he 1s w1th porr1m…”

You wince inwardly at the score of his sentence; three is never good. So close and yet so far. It takes a second for you to remember what you’re talking about: Porrim, for some reason, and watching how you act, and Kankri… Kankri! A mutant, just like you, just like Rufioh, but taken and tucked away in some indigo suburb somewhere and treated like a wriggler for Gog knows how long. You pull a face, bisected tongue lolling from between your lips in disgust. “FUCK1NG GR055!! 1 D0N7 W4N7 70 848Y 7H3 P00R GUY. 1 JU577 7H1NK 175 W0R7H 1NCLUD1NG H1M!!”

Rufioh ponders this, lips pursed in consideration. He lets go of one of your hands to twist at his piercing, the one protruding from the shell of his ear, and you use the newfound freedom to resume your spinning. If you tuck up into a ball, your vision blurs, and Rufioh turns into a very thoughtful looking splash of orange and black. If he’s bothered by you, he doesn’t say. If he noticed your stutter bleed back into your accent, he doesn’t comment. Rufioh is good like that. “yeah… 1 get 1t… we could talk to h1m when--”

“Am I interrupting s9mething?” Kankri’s voice comes from below you, and you jolt to a stop mid-rotation and rattle your fangs. You beam at him, wide and mismatched and sharp at both edges. He does not smile back, eyeing you and Rufioh cynically. Rufioh gives you a small pull, and you both start to descend. It’s better to have this conversation on equal grounds. 

Rufioh lands far more gracefully than you do, one foot after the other, arms out for balance. Taking your weight after forgetting it is always harder for you, and so you stumble, clinging to him and laughing. He smiles, but he’s looking at Kankri, who’s looking at you, eyes narrowed. 

“MY F0UR-WH33L3D D3V1C3!!” You gasp, and let go of Rufioh to turn on your heel and retrieve it from the small bush it had rolled away into. When you face them again, Rufioh has his hand on Kankri’s elbow, his head tucked close to Kankri’s ear. He’s so near that his breath flutters the flyaway hairs on Kankri’s temple. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you don’t think you need to.

Kankri still isn’t looking at him. He’s standing straight, eyes trained on the fingers curled into his sweater. He looks so stiff you’re sure he’ll start to tremble from the strain if he isn’t careful. There’s a patch of dusty pink blooming along the bridge of his nose.

You hang back, suddenly very interested in the wheel of your device. 

You aren’t as stupid as you look. Or act. Or want everyone to believe.

When Rufioh steps away, smiling that easy smile of his, and Kanrki is looking at him, really looking, you rejoin them, slinging your device over your shoulders and resting your arms against it.

“I assume y9u heard,” he says, voice clipped and curt. You wonder if he’s gearing up for a rejection. The thought is so absurd it makes you snort, and his stare cuts into you quicker than you can keep yourself quiet. There’s something fiery in him that you see him silence, something controlled and long-quashed, but still burning. He’s challenging you, however minutely. 

You open your mouth before Rufioh has the chance to.

“H34RD WH47?? 7H47 Y0UR3 4 F1L7HY FUCK1NG MU74N7 L1K3 U5??”

Rufioh cringes beside you, but you’re staring right back at Kankri through the strands of your hair. You want him to know that you can play, too. 

“I w9uldn’t have put it like that,” Kankri says, and you get the feeling you’re being scolded. “But, I supp9se, yes. It’s true, I am 9ff-spectrum. I th9ught it best t9 tell every9ne myself, even th9ugh I’m sl9wly realising I needn’t have 69thered.” 

You laugh, big and hearty. He blinks in surprise, his mouth twitching like he isn’t sure how to respond to such open joy. Maybe he isn’t. You were always told your snorting cackle was attention seeking and disruptive. Maybe it is. “WH475 7H3 81G D34L??”

He doesn’t look like he has an answer for that. He just frowns, like the big deal is as obvious as the wings on Rufioh’s back or the red and blue at the corners of your eyes. 

“tuna…” Rufioh nudges you, right in the grubscar, and you huff in discomfort. It does shut you up, though, which was more than likely his intention. “thanks for tell1ng us man, 1 get that 1t m1ght have been hard, haha… do you maybe wanna ch1ll w1th us out here for a l1ttle wh1le… we don’t have anyth1ng better to do, r1ght…”

Kankri looks between you again, like he’s going to say no. You’re quicker on the draw.

“Y0U C0ULD FLY W17H U5!!” It seems like a good enough idea to you. Privately, you think Kankri’s mutation is kind of terrible, unnoticeable unless you get up close. His teeth are dull, his ears are round, his nails are blunt. None of it seems like any fun. You’d quite like to show him something fun.

He looks like you’d just suggested he could bite your head clean off. “N9, thank y9u,” he says, taking a step backward. 

You don’t give up that easily. You match him with a step forward.

“RUF10H H45 F1DU5P4WN 5375 W3 C0ULD U53!!” 

“f1duspawn sets,” Rufioh translates, much to Kankri’s chagrin. 

“I am perfectly capa6le 9f asking Mituna what he said 9n my 9wn, thank y9u, Rufi9h. If I misunderst99d him, that is, which I didn’t.” He still doesn’t look happy, though. You raise your eyebrows at him, over and over, not quite quick enough to be called a wriggle. Your hair is in the way, regardless. The effect appears to be the same, if the curl in Kankri’s lip is anything to go by.

“Well, I supp9se I c9uld stay a little l9nger. It can’t 6e a very difficult game t9 learn t9 play, as it is meant f9r wrigglers, if mem9ry serves, which I kn9w it d9es.” 

You crow with delight, lurching forward to wrap yourself around his shoulders. He clenches up beneath your arm, all the muscles in his body coiling like he’s ready to break into a full sprint. Rufioh ambles over to box him in on his other side, which doesn’t appear to relax him much, but you’re already pulling the disjointed mess of the three of you towards the stairs at the base of Rufioh’s tree. 

Kankri stumbles until he loses his patience and stands his ground. He realises very quickly that you won’t move until he does and that you aren’t about to let go of him any time soon, and offers both of his hands for you and Rufioh to take, like a lusus leading some unruly wrigglers.

You take his hand almost instantly, curling your fingers around his. His skin is soft, uncalloused and well maintained. You don’t notice, because you’re too busy pressing your palm hungrily against his. 

Kankri looks first at his hand in Rufioh’s, the gentle way their fingers are brushing, and then at your white-knuckled deathgrip. “WH47??” You ask, giving him what you hope is a reassuring squeeze. He winces.

“N9thing,” Kankri says, his voice very quiet all of a sudden. “Y9u’re just… Really warm.”

**Author's Note:**

> pale kantuna? on ELI'S ao3? you bet. 
> 
> another gift fic for levi, because i love him.


End file.
